


They'd Swap Their Blood for Wine like You'd Swap Yours for Ink

by theleaveswant



Category: Misfits, The Losers (2010)
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-08
Updated: 2011-02-08
Packaged: 2017-10-15 12:39:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/160894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theleaveswant/pseuds/theleaveswant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aisha leans on the bar, admiring the detailed tattoo between the bartender's shoulderblades, exposed above the low back of her chemise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	They'd Swap Their Blood for Wine like You'd Swap Yours for Ink

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a hidden prompting meme (author has a secret list of X number of characters, people comment asking questions like "what was 6's first date with 7 and 8 like?"), prompt was "What does 1 do when they find all of 3's tattoos?" Oblique spoilers through Misfits Xmas special. Kinda slashy.

Aisha leans on the bar, admiring the detailed tattoo between the bartender's shoulderblades, exposed above the low back of her chemise—admiring, as well, the way her muscles ripple underneath the ink as she stretches on tiptoes to reach the top-shelf bottle Aisha asked for.

“That's a nice piece of work,” Aisha says when she turns back around to pour her shot. “Where'd you get it?”

The girl looks up and smiles, flashing dimples even cuter than the Eartha Kitt pout she'd worn when Aisha walked in. Aisha tips her half the price of the drink.

“Cheers. Place here on the estate, called Vince's. Got it done for free actually; apparently the bloke owed my mate Kelly a favour or sumfing.” The girl's obviously pegged her for an American tourist and is playing up the London charm in her accent and diction, and Aisha lets her because it's quaint.

“What does it mean to you?”

The girl shrugs. “It's a bird in a cage, innit?”

“A songbird in an open cage. And I asked what it means to you.”

She hesitates, a hard-learned caution in her marvelous green eyes as she studies Aisha, taking in the bands on her forearm, the cobra on her shoulder, and the surgical steel in her ears and eyebrow, as well as her various less-deliberate scars. She glances over at the tall skinny guy working behind the bar with her, who's busy enough that he's not paying them any attention but not swamped enough to need her help. She looks for a moment like she's going to walk away, then takes a deep breath and closes her eyes like she's visualizing the picture on her back.

“At the time I got it . . . a lot was changing in my life, mostly to do with trying to get control over things, over my own skin. I was thinking a lot about choices and destiny, and about the utter, unstoppable madness of trying to change the past. Some things can't be undone, right? They just have to happen, and once they do, it's like they mark you, trap you. But then sometimes I think things can change after all, and you can fly away. So that's what the cage is about, with the open door. I mean, birds are for freedom, right? And navigation, too, migration, surviving huge journeys. The bird's for me but he's also for a friend who, well, he needs a lot of keeping safe.” The bartender opens her eyes and blinks at Aisha, who's nodding and smiling at her. “That about what you wanted to know?”

“It'll do.”

“What about you, what are your tattoos about?”

Aisha grins and flicks her glass across the bar at the girl, who catches it. “Pour me another one and I just might tell you.”


End file.
